


Thermal Comfort

by Alistra (ALeaseInWonderland)



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Hot Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25881556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALeaseInWonderland/pseuds/Alistra
Summary: "Thermal comfort is the condition of mind that expresses satisfaction with the thermal environment and is assessed by subjective evaluation." (Wikipedia)or:This &$#!ing heatwave.Be_Compromised Bingo Challenge 2020 Square A4: "kiss"
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35
Collections: be_compromised Bingo Collection





	Thermal Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, my gratitude to [CloudAtlas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudAtlas/pseuds/CloudAtlas) for patient beta and suffering my complaints about the weather.

Stepping outside is like being knocked down with a bag of hot wet towels. Natasha sits at the edge of the porch swing, pants too short to prevent her legs immediately sticking to the varnished wood.

"Only a few more days. They say it'll cool off by the weekend, " Clint says as he joins her, leaning back against the railing opposite. Natasha has never heard a sound as seductive as that of clinking ice when he hands her a sweating glass. 

"I'm fine," she lies between two long drinks, so eager for refreshment that a small amount of strong icy tea sloshes right past her lips. The rivulet warms instantly, mingling with fresh sweat as it traces down her throat and dips between her clavicles, disappearing into the valley of her breasts. From under her lashes, she sees Clint's lazy smile, as he unabashedly follows the line of moisture until it reappears as a small wet stain in the middle of her shirt. 

Natasha leans back, watching him right back. It's exceedingly unfair to see him just as comfortable in this sweltering heat as he would be at room temperature. It's not as if he's unaffected - there's dark shadows under his arms and at the small of his back - but he just doesn't mind as much as she does. The lighter stripe at his temples show where his sunglasses usually sit, the shape of his armguard still white against tan skin as if he never took it off. Her eyes are drawn by the flex of his muscle as he reaches for his own glass, takes a long drink and sets it back down. He gives her a close-lipped grin, pushing off the railing and crossing the short distance towards her to lean into her space. 

"Don't." Natasha shrinks into her seat. She can feel his additional body heat as he places his hands on the back rest, despite him taking care not to touch her. This close, she can smell the fresh sweat on his body, a mouthwatering combination of salt and something that reminds her of sunshine over wheatfields. He chuckles, angling his head to find her lips with his. 

Natasha's own part on a gasp. 

The ice cube hidden in his mouth has cooled his lips deliciously, his tongue teasing hers like the first drops of water after a week's drought. 

Instantly, she craves more. 

No other part of their overheated bodies touching, Clint lays a line of increasingly tepid kisses along the line of her jaw, a last one lingering on the very edge of her cheekbone. Once more he leans against the railing as if he hadn't just reduced her to a pile of want and miserable heat. His eyes sparkle with amusement. 

He takes another drink and holds out his hand. "Come with me."

"It's too hot," she whines.

Clint beckons with just one finger, laughing as he sees her resolve crumble.

"I have more ice cubes, a bag of frozen peas and a sudden motivation to explore my creativity."

Natasha smiles, unable to resist that mischievous glint in his eye. Following him inside, she hooks only one finger against his for minimum heat transfer. 


End file.
